the flower fairy

The previous night, I only wanted to escape from the nightmarish forest and didn't give Donna a word of comfort. I regretted it when I thought of it. To make up for my negligence, I got up early, carried my drawing board to the other end of the drawbridge, and drew something while staring at the bridge. There was just a touch of orange on the horizon, and the morning mist slowly seeped in from the foot of the distant mountain like a silent tidal flood. The entire camp was quiet, only the sound of the river flowing evenly under the bridge.

Suddenly, a rustling sound came from the bridgehead, while the drawbridge did not move. The sound was getting closer and closer. The head of a sika deer poked out from the grass beside the bridge. She looked at me for a while, then simply walked up and stopped. At the bridgehead, more than ten feet away, she looked at me eye-to-eye. She stood there gracefully, with a slender neck and golden hair dotted with white spots, without the slightest fear of me. I didn't disturb her. I imagined her origin. Maybe she was a girl who had just left home, looking for where she belonged or the princess of a family who sleepwalked here and forgot her way home. The youth of this deer must have a unique story like us. It wasn't until the drawbridge creaked and Donna staggered toward me that the deer hurriedly disappeared into the banana bushes.

Donna saw me from a distance, and when she came to me, she deliberately lowered her straw hat to cover her eyes and said, "I didn't see you," and wanted to walk past me.

I stood in front of her and said, "The tears on my shoulders haven't dried yet!"

She took off her hat and asked me with a smile, "What's going on?"

I said, "You promised me to play the guitar piece you learned last time. Does that count?"

"I haven't found the strings yet."

I took out a paper bag from my satchel and handed it to her: "A birthday present for you!"

Donna jumped up excitedly when she saw the guitar strings and immediately told me that she had an idea: "It is my birthday tomorrow. You can watch the sunrise with me, and I will play the piece for you. However, no other thought is allowed."

As long as I saw her and listened to her guitar, that would be enough. I had no other expectations. I happily agreed with her. She told me to meet up here early the following morning. The critical thing was to "go out of the village quietly, and don't shoot." Before she left, she asked me, "How do you know my birthday?" I admitted to peeking at her military medical checkup form.

When I got home, I begged my sister to give me her new military uniform, which one of my father's comrades had given her, and she had not yet worn. My sister asked me what I was doing, and I had to say I wanted to get Donna a present. My sister agreed, but she questioned me: "Do you like her? You know that mother would disagree."

I said, "Nonsense. Donna saved me, but I haven't shown my gratitude yet. I will bring a girlfriend from a big city in the future to show you."

When I arrived at the bridgehead the following morning, the stars had not yet receded, and Donna was already waiting for me by the banana bushes, with her guitar on her back. I followed her through the wild plantain forest along the river, then left the creek, entered the bushes, and soon came to the foot of the palm-covered mountain. Where exactly to watch the sunrise, she hadn't told me yet.

Donna pointed to the mountainside and said, "Let's go there!"

I looked up and saw clouds and faint trees, but I knew she was referring to the lookout on the hill. It was a log cabin built on a tree tens of feet high. It was used to observe the trend of wildfires during the burning season. I had never been there, but I heard that it was an excellent place to watch the sunrise. I took Donna's guitar, helped her carry it, and urged her to pick up her pace.

We climbed up to the lookout at about seven o'clock, and the crows perched in the log cabin were frightened by us. They reluctantly flew to the nearby trees and croaked hard to try to scare us away. The ravine at the foot of the hill and the surrounding mountains were covered and entangled by thick clouds and mists like a mirage looming, and a few mountain eagles soared up and down in the shadows and mists.

Donna and I sprawled excitedly on the wooden fence, guessing where the sun would come from. From the clouds underfoot? Impossible, at the foot was the ravine, where our battalion headquarters was located. In the distance were overlapping mountains, one after another. From which mountain would it fly? Either one was possible. Could it be from the gap in the mountain, our door to the outside world? We were unsure because the lifeless fog curtain locked it, and it was impossible to see its true colors.

We waited for a long time, and it was past the hour of the rising sun, which deserted us and played tricks on us. The sky was gloomy, and the clouds and mists in the mountains became dimmer and dimmer as if it was brewing a whole rainy season. No matter how much we prayed and called, we didn't see the sun spewing out, making us yearn for the scene.

Donna was a little disappointed, sat on the floor covered with leaves, and sighed, "My luck is always so bad."

I sat across from her and comforted her, "Hey, the sun is like you. He has the same birthday as you, so he must have a date and doesn't have time to show up."

With a smile on Donna's face, she asked me, "Have you peeked at Sun's file?"

I said, "Although I haven't seen it, I know that the sun won't hurt the lovely and innocent Donna, right?"

"That's right, let's play guitar." She picked up the guitar, adjusted it, and said, "If I don't play well, don't laugh. My mother said that we play the music to entertain ourselves."

I reminded her that I didn't know anything about musical instruments: "I can't tell if it's good or bad, only if I like it or not."

She tucked her braids behind her shoulders, lowered her head, and played the song I wanted to hear. The crisp and cheery notes drifted out of her beating fingers, and the rhythm changed like a demon - sometimes gently, sometimes excitedly - and wrapped around my ears thickly, tugging at my heartstrings.

Donna's body moved slightly with the music, and she hummed softly:

The girl la-la over the far side of the mountain

what flame is sweet as honey

What cradle is as light as silk

What agate weeps like tears

What wind sing like a chime

The boy la-la over the far side of the mountain

The red lips of the flower fairy are sweet as honey

The dream shirt of the flower fairy is as light as silk

The morning dew of flower fairy weeps like tears

The heart knot of the flower fairy sings like a chime…